


Jealous? Who's jealous?

by ChocoNut



Series: Little bites of love [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Jealous Jaime Lannister, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25050898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Jaime comes to know that Brienne is planning to give Tormund wrestling lessons.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Little bites of love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812850
Comments: 20
Kudos: 91





	Jealous? Who's jealous?

**Author's Note:**

> More jealous Jaime. Thank you for reading and enjoy :)

“I win,” she triumphantly roared, straddling him and pinning his hands to the ground above his head so he couldn’t move. “Out with the money, Lannister.” Wrestling was one sport where Brienne had always managed to get the better of her friend. This morning was no exception.

Mischievous green eyes gazed back up at hers, the handsome face they belonged to having its usual bothersome effect on her. “I can’t reach my pockets unless you let go of me, wench,” he coolly stated, unperturbed by his defeat. “Of course, if you want to stay here like this all day--”

Brienne sprang to her feet, the prospect of lying in the mud, tangled with him, limb to limb, body to body leaving her hot and bothered and hornier than ever. “Nope,” she muttered, trying not to stare when he got up. Underdressed, dirty and sweaty, the sight of him made her want to rush to the shower to cool down. Ignoring the pangs of her body, she fled towards the exit as fast as she could. “I have another hour of training now--”

“I didn’t know you trained people.”

The razor-sharp edge to his tone brought her to a halt. “I don’t,” she explained, trying not to stare at the wisps of hair glistening on his chest, the smudge of dirt on his arm. “Tormund wanted to learn a few moves--”

Before she could realize it, Jaime had her pinned to the wall, hands above her head and tight in his grip. “Tormund, huh?” The heat in his eyes pierced right through her. “What else does he want from you?”

“Nothing.” It had been an innocent request to train with her, no more than that.

“Nothing?” he scoffed, his brows converging when the tip of his nose brushed hers. “I don’t think Ginger would _ever_ approach you with _nothing_ in his mind. He has an eye on you, Brienne--”

“Nonsense. He just wanted to--”

“--touch you like this?” Releasing her wrist, he let his hand slide down her arm, the delicate velvety path his fingertips traced, tightening her groin, blinding her from the blazing sunshine. “Or--” he let his lips hover over hers, his other hand drifting down to her face, then further down her throat, tracing the neckline of her t-shirt “--like this?”

“Jaime--” Throat dry, her brain and her senses numbed themselves to everything but what he was doing to her. Every word was a challenge, every gulp of air, an effort. “Jaime, what--”

He pressed his chest into hers, his firm muscles squeezing her breasts. “I’m sure he wants to explore your body.” He pushed closer and her tits stood up to greet his touch, the desperation in them, naked, and when he dragged his hand down her side to meet her waist, she could barely hold her balance. “Believe me, he expects far more than an hour of wrestling,” he growled, the vibrations from his throat piercing the depths of her that cried out for more of this, for him. “He wants _this_ ,” he went on, his hands wandering, caressing, stroking her. “Sweat and mud make you sexy as hell,” he rasped into her ear. “He knows that and he wants you.” He exhaled, his warm breath drenching her skin. “Do you feel the same about him, Brienne?”

This was no mere warning to stay away from Tormund. His blazing eyes went far deeper than that, far more… _personal_. “You sound quite jealous,” she croaked, instead of answering him. Yes, that was it. It was obvious as fuck.

His eyes were bound to hers for about ten seconds, then he let go of her and stepped away, frowning. “Jealous? Who’s jealous?”

“From the way you--” Confused, and somewhat upset with his sudden retreat, she wondered if she’d read too much into his reaction. When he touched her, it was almost like he was trying to seduce… But now… now that the fire in his eyes had died away, it felt like the last minute or so didn’t happen at all… Maybe it was just a prank, or perhaps, he only wanted to point out what Tormund expected out of her.

And she’d been stupid enough to jump into conclusions, assuming he burned with the same attraction for her.

“I thought--” She looked down at her hands. At least, they were alone. There was no one around to witness this embarrassing spectacle. “I misunderstood--”

And again, she found herself pinned to the wall, only this time, his mouth was on hers, stunning her with a kiss so hot that she was left reeling and panting and trembling against him. Whether it was jealousy or a raw sexual urge or a heady mix of both, she wasn’t sure, but something definitely seemed to have gotten into him. She might have beaten him sometime back, but defeat in his arms, by his lips, was something she gladly welcomed when he kissed her hard, using his size and strength to back her up against the wall. His tongue pushed into her mouth, demanding what was his, and she readily gave in, arousal blazing through her when she arched her hips to meet his bulge. 

She moaned when he released her mouth, tilting her head back, exposing her throat as his lips feathered across her jaw. “You were right, Brienne,” he breathed into her skin, dragging his hand down her front to cup her breast. “I’d like nothing more than to strangle Ginger with my bare hands--”

“Oh, Jaime,” she sighed, her skin erupting in goosebumps with every lick and nibble on her neck. “I need--” Her desperation to express her aching need was reduced to a helpless squeal when he sucked on her collarbone. “Let’s--” she tried again, but yelped in agony when he plucked at her troubled nipple. 

“My place,” she panted before he could, once again, steal her ability to speak. “Now. No Tormund. No more training.”


End file.
